


Embrace Your Truth

by ddpoweredbycoffee



Series: A Crack in the Mirror Series [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: CITM, Counselor Spock, Enterprise drama, Happy Ending, Internalized Homophobia, Lightly influenced by animated Justice League, M/M, Specifically Wonder Woman, Unorthodox Methods, mild homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-15 23:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11815989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddpoweredbycoffee/pseuds/ddpoweredbycoffee
Summary: Lightly influenced by this Justice League scene:Embrace Your TruthPlease enjoy!





	Embrace Your Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, all! I apologize for the wait, but things have been crazy lately and probably will continue to be, so posting might be slower than before. I promise there is a continuation of this story- it just isn't here anymore. As I've been writing, some of my chapters are evolving into their own fics, so I'll be posting them separately (mostly to help me keep things better organized : P)
> 
> If you like this story and would like to continue reading, I will be including the tag "CITM" and "Counselor Spock" to all the related fics. 
> 
> I apologize for any confusion regarding this change, but I hope you will stick with Kirk and his Spocks! Please enjoy, and as always, I would love to see your comments! 
> 
> Thanks! <3
> 
> -DD

Counselor Spock steps out of his office and into the bustling hallway, pausing briefly to allow a group of crewmen by. It’s been months since his return from the parallel universe, but on occasion, he wonders in disbelief how peaceful it is here aboard the Enterprise. No officers strolling the corridors with armed, personal guards, no daily news of assassinations and promotions, no agonizers…yes, very peaceful, indeed.

The counselor starts toward Sickbay carrying a stack of computer disks to discuss the ship’s upcoming annual physical and psychological examinations with the doctor. He stares down at his PADD, jotting down a few notes as he walks. He’s suddenly wrenched from his thoughts, however, when he receives a particularly rough bump to his shoulder. His fingers tighten instinctively around the computer disks before they have a chance to slip free, and there's a chorus of snickering.

“Pardon me,” Csr. Spock apologizes politely, glancing up.

“Maybe you should watch where you’re going,” says the perpetrator, an ensign as evidenced by his uniform; his green eyes are dark even in the bright hallway.  

Startled, the counselor watches the young man continue on his way with two other ensigns and disappear around the corner. Odd. Now that the initial shock had passed, he recognized the ensign as Robert Troy, a new academy graduate who had only recently been stationed in his first position aboard the Enterprise. Perhaps his poor manners had been brought on by the stress of his new responsibilities. The counselor shrugs and turns to start again down the corridor. It would have been easy to brush off the incident as an unpleasant anomaly…if it had been the only occurrence.

A bump in the hallway here, a comment under breath in passing there, it seems every time Csr. Spock encountered the young man, he is met with a hostility he can sense smoldering beneath the surface. He cannot understand it. The ensign had graduated Starfleet Academy at the top of his class, earning him the coveted position on the ship. He is incredibly intelligent and resourceful with glowing recommendations from all his professors. After all his searching, the counselor still could not uncover a cause for such reprehensible behavior. At any rate, he concludes it needs to be addressed quickly. The ensign’s treatment of a superior officer would certainly blemish his otherwise perfect record—if not bring about a harsher punishment.

The opportunity to confront the ensign arises when the counselor enters the nearest rec room to his office to retrieve his afternoon cup of tea. The hot liquid sloshes over the brim and into the saucer where his thumb rests against the porcelain at the hard bump to his elbow. Csr. Spock flares with anger, bringing a bitter taste to his tongue, but he reins it in swiftly, his demeanor remaining calm. He looks up at the smirking ensign flanked on both sides by his two friends.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there, _princess_ ,” Ensign Troy says, making his companions chuckle.

The counselor sets his tea on the closest table and clasps his hands behind his back. His thumb presses into his wrist to better gage his heartbeat. Calm.

“Ensign Troy, your behavior toward me recently has been incredibly distasteful, not to mention completely unprovoked,” he states steadily. “I said nothing until this moment because I considered it to be a temporary phase brought on by the stress of your new position, but I can see now that it is not. If this continues, I will be forced to make a report.”

“I didn’t realize I was hurting your feelings, princess,” the ensign sneers. “I didn’t think Vulcans had feelings.”

The counselor’s eyes narrow and his blood pumps faster against his thumb.

“Oh, but you’re from the other universe, right? So it’s different for you,” the young man continues. "You're not like that robot Mr. Spock."

Csr. Spock bristles at the comment, his thumb digging painfully into the thumping artery in his wrist. Calm. He stealthily takes a deep breath. Calm.

"I would advise you to watch your words, Ensign," he warns evenly. "You are speaking of the first officer of the Enterprise."

“Believe me, I know who he is,” Troy sasses, crossing his arms over his chest. “Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock, the two who built the Universal Corridor. It’s all anyone has been talking about at the academy for the passed few months.”

He young man takes a daring step forward, raising his chin up. The counselor watches him carefully, not moving a muscle.

“They also couldn’t stop talking about the big, tough admiral they brought back from the other universe, the one who overthrew an Empire,” he continues; he gives him a quick look up an down. “An admiral to a ship’s counselor—what a joke.”

Csr. Spock’s heart thunders against his side as fury burns in his chest, but he remains silent. Perhaps if he allows the ensign to say his piece, he can finally ascertain the root of his resentment towards him. His face is a perfect mask of neutrality despite the storm raging within him.

“I’ve been doing this almost a week now, and you’ve said nothing, done nothing about it. You’re not so tough,” Troy huffs at him with a smirk; he glances up higher on his face. “Especially with that eyeshadow.”

The counselor’s eyebrows furrow at the jibe, but suddenly, the confused creases smooth from his forehead. It’s all beginning to click together.

“Listen, if you’re not just Starfleet’s little pet, then prove it,” the ensign challenges. “Tomorrow at 1700 hours in the sparring ring.”

Csr. Spock arches an eyebrow at him.

“Your proposal is highly inappropriate, Ensign, and a direct violation of Starfleet regulations,” he states firmly.

Troy uncrosses his arms with a shrug.

“Ship’s counselors are granted some leeway with regulations,” he explains. “But I get it if you’re just trying to weasel out.”

He pushes passed the counselor towards the door, followed closely by his friends.

“Enjoy your tea, Counselor,” he taunts, gesturing to the teacup on the table before exiting the rec room.

Csr. Spock watches as the door closes with a soft whoosh behind him.

“Interesting.”

  
***

  
Csr. Spock sits at his desk, flipping through his notes on the psychology reports of the Federation colony, Penthara IV. A buzzer sounds at the door.

"Come in," he calls, glancing up from his PADD.

The door opens with a soft whoosh and Kirk steps inside before it closes behind him. His golden eyes meet his under furrowed eyebrows, and his mouth is set in a firm line. The counselor’s demeanor immediately falls into the formality of their positions.

“Yes, Captain?" The counselor greets him.

Kirk steps deeper into the room, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Chekov just informed me of the harassment you've been receiving from Ensign Troy, and Mr. Sulu overheard in the rec room that he's challenged you to a fight tomorrow in the gym."

Csr. Spock hesitates before answering.

"Yes."

"And you weren't going to tell me yourself, were you?" the captain accuses quietly.

The counselor leans back in his chair with a sigh.

"I did not believe the situation warranted your attention, Captain," he replies steadily. "I have developed a theory about Ensign Troy's behavior and plan to test it. It is a psychological matter, and as such, is under my care as Ship's Counselor, is it not?"

"Not just your care, Counselor, not when a member of my crew disrespects a superior officer. That becomes my business," Kirk counters firmly.

The captain makes his way around the desk and sits on its edge near him. He gently takes his hand.

"As a man who shares your bed, Spock, I do not enjoy learning secondhand that you are being mistreated," he says softly, kissing the counselor's knuckles.

Csr. Spock strokes Kirk's fingers with his thumb. The captain continues:

"I'm going to make a report regarding Ensign Troy to Starfleet, and he will be relieved of his position on the Enterprise once we reach Starbase 7."

"That is unnecessary, Captain."

Kirk clenches his jaw against the irritation bubbling in his throat.

" _Unnecessary?_ That ensign is challenging a superior officer to a fight, Counselor."

"That is true, but in his mind, he is provoking a competition he believes he is guaranteed win; he perceives me as being weak because of the way I am."

The counselor emphasizes his statement by arching a beautifully trimmed eyebrow above his vibrant purple eyeshadow.

"Then the matter is settled. That kind of behavior is unacceptable in Starfleet; he will be removed promptly."

"Then what, Captain?" Csr. Spock counters, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. "From there the plague will grow, and destroying his career before it has even begun will only fuel that fire."

Kirk grinds his teeth together in frustration. He had a point.

"Then what do you propose to do, Counselor?"

The counselor shrugs.

"I will accept his challenge."

Kirk's jaw nearly falls to the floor.

"Absolutely not! I will not allow it! Not on my ship!" he snaps.

"Jim," Csr. Spock says firmly, rising from his chair and taking a step closer. "This young man doesn't need more discipline-- he needs guidance. Please trust me."

He reaches out and pulls gently at the fabric of the captain's uniform resting over his abdomen. He gazes down at him with hooded eyes, his long eyelashes low. He moves between his legs, gently coaxing them apart and leans in close until Kirk can feel his hot breath across his cheeks.

"I would like to believe you made me Ship's Counselor for reasons other than...keeping me close..." he murmurs, his voice deep in his throat.

Kirk swallows and steals a quick glance at his supple, pink lips. His blood pumps fast and heavy in his veins, and his skin burns like fire under his uniform.

"Dammit," he finally breathes. "Just don't hurt him too much."

Csr. Spock's mouth pulls up into a smirk.

"Only a little," he promises quietly and leans in to seal his lips with a deep kiss.

  
***

Csr. Spock walks down the narrow hallway leading away from the lockers to the gymnasium. He rolls his eyes internally at the red tights clinging to his legs. What an odd thing to wear, especially for this occasion. He decided to leave behind the optional wraparound top in favor of going bare; it would only restrict his movements. He emerges from the corridor into the brightly lit gymnasium, and hesitates. The space is packed tightly with crewmen from all departments buzzing excitedly with anticipation. He hears a few taking bets for the outcome of the fight.

From his place on the other side of the sparring ring, an ensign taps Troy on the shoulder and points in his direction. He turns to follow the gesture and smirks as the counselor steps into the circle.

“What? No high-heels?”

Csr. Spock glances around as snickering peppers the low hum of voices surrounding them. Ignoring the taunt, he gathers up his loose hair in his hands and pulls the locks back to tie them behind his head.

Suddenly, a hush falls over the crowd. The counselor looks up to find the captain, as well as Spock, standing near the entrance of the gym. He crosses his arms over his chest, his face set in displeasure as their eyes meet.

“You tattled on me, huh?” Troy sneers.

He glares at the young man.

“As you mentioned before, Ensign, the counselor has some leeway; he will not interfere.”

One of the crewmen steps into the ring to introduce the combatants to the audience. The counselor watches curiously as Ensign Troy bounces around on his feet and punches at the air to warm up. He focuses on his breathing, calming his mind with each exhale. Troy moves into position, his fists high up to protect his face. Csr. Spock waits patiently despite the energy vibrating in his body.

A loud ring sounds the start to the fight. The crowd shouts and cheers as they begin to circle around the ring. Troy hops sideways in sporadic, overly excited movements as the counselor walks calmly as if he’s taking a leisurely stroll through a garden. The ensign lunges forward, his fist outstretched, and he easily steps to the side. He attacks again, but his hand is slapped away like a fly. The pattern continues a few more times, and the counselor senses the frustration exuding from the young man. A chorus of boos comes from the crowd.

“Fight me, pretty boy,” he snarls.

On his next move, Csr. Spock grabs his wrist and pulls him in. The heel of his hand hits him square in the chest with restrained strength, but with enough force to send him flying across the ring. He lands in an undignified heap. The crowd goes silent. Ensign Troy stares up at him, his brain still trying to process what just happened.

“On your feet, Ensign,” the counselor orders firmly.

Troy scrambles to his feet, his chest heaving with rage and embarrassment. He shoots forward with a shout. A swift knee to the side sends him toppling back down. Incredibly knowledgeable about fragile, human anatomy, Csr. Spock hits with surgical precision the areas that will give him the greatest impact while avoiding those that will cause permanent damage. If the doctor were in attendance, he would have been proud.

With another blow, the ensign falls back to the floor with a loud thud. He gasps, his eyes wide, as he tries to recover the air just knocked from his lungs. Sweat pours from his face. The crowd doesn’t make a sound as they watch him with pity in their eyes.

“Get up, Ensign,” the counselor instructs, ignoring the shame rising in his chest at the sight.

It needs to be done, he reminds himself. The ensign finally manages to catch his breath and his pants pull in through his constrained throat. He looks up at the counselor with wide eyes. He shakes his head.

Another bell, and the fight is over. There’s no cheering, no shouts or laughter. The counselor can feel the captain’s eyes burning into him from his place near the door. He walks over to the ensign, and the young man flinches slightly as he crouches down next to him.

“Ensign, look at my eyeshadow,” he orders, and Troy does so. “It’s a very specific shade—Argelian, very expensive.”

The ensign’s eyebrows furrow, his breaths beginning to slow. A low murmur hums from the audience around them.

“Does it eliminate the fact that I just defeated you?” the counselor asks, arching his eyebrow.

A brief pause, and the young man shakes his head, breaking his gaze.

“Do you know why, Ensign?”

He doesn’t give him a chance to answer.

“Because what makes up a person is far more than the way they choose to present themselves, wouldn’t you agree?”

Troy nods.

“Then why should your judgment stop there?”

Another rumble of voices, and he continues.

"Violence rarely proves anything, least of all strength," Csr. Spock tells him. "When you harm others in an attempt to make yourself look better, you only prove one thing—that you are a coward...and you reveal your own insecurities in the process."

The counselor's face softens, and the ensign stares up at him, his green eyes wide.

"You can stop by my office anytime you're ready to talk," Csr. Spock murmurs gently, loud enough for only him to hear, his mouth pulling into a small smile. “And your eyeliner could use some work.”

Instinctively, Troy reaches up toward his eyelid. He swallows and blinks at the traitorous moisture blurring his vision. The counselor stands and holds out a hand. After a brief hesitation, the ensign takes it, and he's lifted easily to his feet. Csr. Spock goes to turn away, but stops when Troy calls after him:

"Counselor Spock."

The counselor glances back over his shoulder. The ensign fidgets at the fabric of his tights, but manages to bring his eyes up to face him.

"I-I'm sorry."

Csr. Spock gives him a small smile.

"Do not dwell on it, Ensign; life is about learning and growing from our mistakes."

The young man nods, casting his eyes down to the ground.

"Troy," the counselor says, making him glance back up. "Anytime."

The ensign smiles and nods again, more enthusiastically this time. Csr. Spock turns and walks to Spock and the captain, who's grinning from ear to ear.

"I knew I made a good decision when I made you Ship's Counselor," he gushes happily.

"Are you going to say that every time I do my job?"

"Possibly."

Kirk lifts up to his toes to plant a quick kiss to his cheek, making the counselor blush a light shade of green. Spock reaches out to gently caress the dark bruise blooming on his other cheekbone.

"A most interesting approach, Counselor; could you have just explained it to him without the violence?" he inquires with an arched eyebrow.

Csr. Spock covers Spock's hand with his own and kisses his palm.

"Without the sparring, the words would have been meaningless to him," he explains, then shoots a quick glimpse at the captain. "Humans are odd that way."

"Indeed."

“Come,” says Kirk. “I think you’ve earned yourself a big mug of hot chocolate, Counselor.”

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out here: [destielissaved](https://destielissaved.tumblr.com)


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